I stroll up.
“I have a bit of news for you,” she says. “I managed to follow a paper trail from Ferguson Property Holdings through several shell companies they own. A company called Sunny Acres built a subdivision in Idaho. The Sunny Acres subdivision, designed with the same eco-friendly principles as the one that will be built here. Five hundred and twenty-five homes, completed only a couple of months ago. I took it on myself to call the president of the homeowners’ association, and he isn’t aware of any major issues with the homes.”
“Any major issues?” I echo.
“Yeah, he said he had to follow up on something about a report of a leaking roof, but they’ve been having a lot of rain there. He didn’t think it was a big deal.”
I arch an eyebrow. “And yet you don’t sound as happy as I’d expect.”
“Well, there’s just something about it that feels hinky.” She purses her lips, frowning in thought. “I mean, it’s a little odd to me that he owned that many shell companies. And if everything’s fine there, why wouldn’t they just give you the name of the subdivision in the first place? It wouldn’t normally necessarily ring any alarm bells, but when you add in the fact that nobody has been able to find out what this guy was doing before a year ago, and there’s no history on him, and I had to work really hard to track down that subdivision…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know, but I’m starting to feel like something’s off.”
“I agree. Something’s wrong, but we’re supposed to sign that agreement next week. I’m not sure what we could find out before then.” I sigh. “I’ve asked our closing attorney if he knows anything, but he doesn’t have a clue. Not really his purview.”
“And, total change of subject, you’ve had sex.” She skewers me with an appraising gaze. Damn Bestie ESP.
I glance around. A few people who were wandering by slow down, straining their ears.
“Well, thank you for announcing that to everybody!” I say indignantly. “Yes, Donovan is back in town, and we’ve reconciled.”
Behind her, I spot a couple of familiar faces. Constantine and Graham are sitting at an umbrella-topped sidewalk table. Graham catches my eye and waves at me.
“Hey, you guys!” I call out to them. “That’s Donovan’s business partner, and his friend Constantine,” I tell Pamela. “Okay, hold on minute.”
I type out a quick message to Donovan, telling him what Pamela found out. I doubt he’ll have time to do much with the information before next Wednesday, but it’s worth a shot. Then we walk over to Constantine and Graham.
Constantine looks dismayed as we grab a couple of chairs and pull them up to their table. “So soon?” He shakes his head sadly. “I expected more of him.”
Why is everyone so invested in our sex life?
“No, no, everything’s fine. We’ve reconciled,” I say to him. “I’m just here because the Witlocke family is sitting down and talking about stuff they should have dealt with decades ago. But we’re back together, for good.”
“Ah! So true love won out in the end!” Constantine nods to himself in satisfaction. “Agapi.”
“What gapi?” Pamela looks at me, puzzled.
“Why would I know?” I wave at the waitress. “Howdy! Jemma, right?”
“Be right there, hon!” She bustles over and sets glasses of water in front of Pamela and me.
The sound of yelling distracts us. We all look around for the source of the noise.
Carrie is standing on the street, right outside the coffee shop’s seating area, screeching into Heather’s face. Heather is rapidly backing up, clutching a shopping bag to her chest.
Constantine’s gaze swivels over to them. “That redhead.”
“Oh, don’t pay her any mind,” I say.
At the exact same time, Constantine breathes, “Who is that magnificent creature?”
“Uhhh… You mean Carrie?”
Constantine is riveted. “So full of fire and passion.”
Pamela and I exchange looks.
I leap to my feet. “Carrie!” I bellow at the top of my lungs, making everyone at the table jump.
Pamela coughs on her water. “Jeez, warn a woman.”
Carrie looks over at me. I wave at her, and she winces, realizing she’s been busted in an act of less than excellent behavior. She trots towards us, a guilty look on her face.
Constanine leaps to his feet and quickly runs his fingers through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. “Wait!” he says in a low, frantic voice. “I’m not ready! Do I have anything in my teeth?”
“No. You look very handsome,” I assure him.
He’s adjusting his tie as Carrie walks up.
“I know,